


The Value of Peace

by Fishfootidentity



Series: For Those Who Struggle [1]
Category: Dorohedoro
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon Tie-in, Canon-Typical Violence, Dorohedoro manga spoilers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Mutual Admiration, Secret Crush, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26064406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishfootidentity/pseuds/Fishfootidentity
Summary: An iteration of the Sparkling Youth chapter (#49), plus worldbuilding that comes from having too many thoughts about the sorcerer world. May contain spoilers, some referencing Omake #85.5, up through chapter #145 due to having Aikawa-centric POVs as well.This fic expands on what life is like for Risu and Aikawa when they were students at South Zagan Sorcery School. Some parts are a build-up to their friendship. Events leading up to Aikawa’s intervention when classmates start disappearing, or showing up with unexplained wounds.As Aikawa gets closer to Risu, he feels the distance between them and normal society (especially peers at school) grow. But he can sense the importance of his place in Risu's life.
Relationships: Aikawa & Risu (Dorohedoro), Aikawa (Dorohedoro) & Risu (Dorohedoro), Aikawa (Dorohedoro)/Risu (Dorohedoro), Aikawa/Risu (Dorohedoro)
Series: For Those Who Struggle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892110
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	1. The Way Things Are

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve taken the liberty of assigning names to characters that are visible and significant to the story.
> 
> Ishii = Teacher who takes advantage of his position of authority. Relative of the South Zagan Sorcery School principal.  
> Miura = Wimpy skinny kid in suit and helmet, often rescued by Aikawa.  
> Sato = The exasperated cook at South Zagan Sorcery School.
> 
> Fukurou (the nonbinary sorcerer, an original character) is a world-building assistant and helpful spectator. They closely follow Haru’s musical works.

.....

**AIKAWA**

Aikawa has attended South Zagan Sorcery School for more than a few terms now. The place is an institution for sorcerers of varying ages who struggle with smoke output. It is the ideal place for him to be: to stay away from powerful magic-users.

Things are peaceful enough over there, so life is pretty good. And if there are problems, he usually knows how to solve them.

He paid little attention to the new guy in class. All he knows from one furtive glance is that the new student is quite tall, has kind-of-spiky hair, and is not wearing a mask. The newbie has cross tattoos over his eyes.

_Pfeh. What self-respecting Cross-Eye member would go to_ school _?_

Aikawa ignores Ishii-sensei’s introduction of the new student, and continues to annihilate his fried fish-ball bento.

The tall and physically-imposing Ishii-sensei teaches Practical Magics: the class for students to learn how best to emit smoke from their fingers or mouths. The teacher starts his class as usual: with a lecture on basic instructions, plus how it should feel like to expel smoke from one’s body.

Then he calls for volunteers to show how smoke is produced. As usual, a few smartasses and show-offs raise their hands, but Ishii-sensei is rarely interested in showing textbook examples of smoke production to his class. No; he more typically picks (on) students who almost never raise their hands.

This time, Miura – one of the smaller and younger students in this class – gets called to the front. He visibly struggles to put out… a spurt of black smoke that has two smaller puffs breaking off from it.

“That’s all?” Ishii-sensei hollered, holding a studded club in his hand. “You’re pathetic!”

It’s happening again. Right now, Aikawa has almost finished all of his rice.

“You lack spirit!”

Along with that shout, Ishii-sensei swings his club down on Miura’s upper back. The impact drew a weak cry out of Miura and made his knees buckle.

“And that’s supposed to teach him magic?” Aikawa heard the exclamation from somewhere to his right. It’s the new student, whose words went almost unheard due to the continuing commotion from the front.

Aikawa is not surprised. A Cross-Eye is no stranger to violence, especially when it comes from higher authorities. Bloody spittle leaking through Miura’s mask from the sensei’s repeated physical abuse is surely enough to stir the Cross-Eye’s defiance.

Time to stop this from getting ugly.

Few students would have been able to trace Aikawa’s rapid movement toward the front of the class. With his hands still holding onto his bento and chopsticks, Aikawa used his left leg to grip Ishii-sensei’s raised hand – both as a perch and to keep that cruel limb in place. His right leg is thumped on the sensei’s chest for balance and as a threat.

“Ah – Aikawa!” Ishii-sensei exclaimed, frozen in place. The perspiration from him hitting his student is steadily turning into the cold sweat of trepidation.

Aikawa grins; his expression of challenge is amplified by the menace radiating from his shaded eyes.

“Hey sensei, you look nervous. Want me to share some of my lunch with you?”

Aikawa’s tone is light-hearted as always, and bits of rice are stuck next to the corners of his mouth. But the warning in his voice is made clear with the chopsticks he is holding, clicking together awfully close to the abusive sensei’s eye-holes.

Having delivered his message, Aikawa’s legs loosened off, and he landed on his feet.

Ishii-sensei dropped his studded club and moved to the classroom entrance, trying not to look like he was hurrying out of this place.

“The rest of today is self-study! Self-study!!”

The classroom door slid shut. Aikawa put the emptied bento and chopsticks on the teacher’s table.

“Thank you, Aikawa,” Miura said, his voice having been frayed from the earlier rough treatment. His posture is slightly hunched, but he has enough strength to stand on his own, and that is good news.

“Nah, it’s no big deal,” Aikawa told him, putting his black gas mask back on. While he and Miura are returning to their seats, he placed an arm around Miura’s narrow shoulders (without weighing his classmate down too much) and said: “Just treat me to lunch sometime.”

Miura laughed lightly; a meal is a small price to pay to keep him from the crushing pains of a teacher’s studded club, and from subsequently lying in the nurse’s office for a week.

“That’s what he always says,” another classmate from near Miura’s desk commented.

“… Hmph.”

Aikawa heard the new kid’s huff of disappointment. He wonders why. Ishii-sensei barely teaches anything useful or valuable to begin with, so it’s not like the newbie is missing out.

* * *

**RISU**

Self-study? _Self-study???_

What is Risu supposed to do when this is his first day in school? He has no notes on hand, and only bug-eaten rented textbooks to refer to.

Ah… it can’t be helped.

Now that the students are all more at ease – some of them visiting desks on other sides of the classroom – Risu could take this time to see which classmate he should be friends with.

In the absence of the Practical Magics teacher, that Aikawa guy seems to act more like a class clown than some hot-shot hero in school. Regardless, there is no mistaking the abundance of muscles in his silhouette…

Anyway. Risu left his meagre belongings at his seat, keeping a blank notebook and a pen on hand. It is not easy to move subtly around the classroom when he cannot even clear the height of common doorframes.

Few of Risu’s classmates are looking at books on their table, or even working on smoke practice as the class requires of them. The sparse books he sees his classmates reading include comics, sports sections of newspapers, and –

_Is that porn? Eww. These people need to stop._

Risu decided to scout closer to the front of the class. As he suspected, that is where some of the smarter (or at least more diligent) students are.

A student in an owl mask and ancient-styled robes is laying out exercise books and pens as if building a tabletop empire. The covers of those books are labelled clearly with titles for Practical Magics, Magic Theory, and other subjects whose names Risu could not remember from his timetable.

“Hi, I’m Risu. Can I look at your notes?” he asked the owl-masked student.

He was fully expecting to be rejected, but the student glanced at him through reflective-looking eye-holes, nodded, and said: “Sure.” They then turned their note-filled exercise books to face him.

“Thanks, uh –”

“Fukurou.” Their voice sounded like a teenage boy’s.

“Fukurou-san.”

Risu pulled up a spare chair and sat on the opposite side of Fukurou’s desk. This close, he can see that the full-head mask is made of fabric. There is a band shirt beneath those robes, and they have sharp metal-plated elbow-pads for self-defence. The student’s hands are quite small, but then again, Risu’s hands are huge compared to most people’s.

_Let’s see… This thick book is for Magic Theory, and the smaller one is for Practical Magics. These are pretty detailed…_

While he was absorbed in reading the mostly-neat notes, he almost did not realise that Fukurou is neglecting their other school books. They are actually writing alphabets and symbols in another small exercise book, pausing from time to time to listen on a singular device-connected headphone and nodding to the beat.

_This student has all these notes and is_ also _doing something else? Can I even say that this is a diligent student?_

Then again, he cannot complain if he is learning from someone _this_ confident.

Looking up in between copying Fukurou’s notes, Risu can hear some students guffawing dirtily from near the back row of the classroom, not far from the room’s rear door. Fukurou adjusted the spectacles worn beneath their mask, glanced over their shoulder, and clicked their tongue.

“Those fucking shitbags…” Fukurou exclaimed under their breath.

Then the tough-looking student in the black mask got up from his desk in the middle row. He brought his chair along and put it down to sit opposite Fukurou, next to Risu.

“Fukurou-kun, are you having pies for lunch?” the student’s voice is a mix of playful and begging.

“They’re limited edition quail meat pies!” Fukurou screeched, but it was in dramatic mock distress. They sighed and continued speaking in their normal tone: “But I’ll give you one for keeping those perverts from jumping me.”

“Perverts?” Risu asked.

“Not so loud!” Fukurou hissed.

The burly guy – what’s his name again? Aikawa? – took off his mask and sniffed in the direction of the paper bag on the other side of the classroom desk.

With him around, Fukurou’s shoulders are noticeably less tense. The owl-masked student is not the only one to see his momentary death-glare, and where it was being aimed.

To Risu, he explains in a low voice: “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a handful in this school ain’t so civil to people who are visibly feminine. Those pervs at the back think Fukurou-kun is a woman.”

“Yup. They think my improving smoke output doesn’t fucking matter if I didn’t have a dick,” Fukurou added.

“So…”

Risu shuts his mouth before he could say more. As curious as he is about Fukurou, he does not wish to gather ill will between himself and his guide (and their bodyguard), especially on the first day of class.

Fukurou retrieves a paper-wrapped palm-sized pie and hands it over to Aikawa. He chortles happily at receiving his immediate payment.

Risu turns to Aikawa. “You’re like a mercenary around here, huh?”

Aikawa chomps on the pie, sprinkling crumpled flakes and pastry pieces all over the front of his black sweater.

“What can I say? It’s honest work, and it pays well!”

Risu glanced at the part of the classroom where students were laughing before. That place has cleared up; they probably left, knowing there is no teacher to mind their absence anyway.

_This seems peaceful._

Faced with notes written by a busy music-hearing owl, sitting next to this Aikawa guy eating quail pie with gusto…

“I didn’t think they’d put in this much meat!”

“That’s part of why it’s limited edition.”

… Risu would say his first day at school is ‘not the worst’.

* * *

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM THE FIRST CHAPTER:

  1. Aikawa has defended his classmates from all sorts of bullies.
  2. Effeminate people tend to be looked down on in South Zagan Magic Training School.
  3. Risu is a nerd.




	2. I'm All Ears

**.....**

**AIKAWA**

Time moves on. Aikawa attends school about as often as required, with his usual minimum being 3 days a week. He does not care so seriously about his studies that he would come to Fukurou for notes. No; the more important thing for him to get from that owl is pastries.

Headaches overcome him every so often, but aside from those brief, unremembered episodes, his life as a happy-go-lucky student has not been interrupted by anything unusual. He eats food, fights bullies, and sleeps during most classes – that is, when he isn’t occupied with eating more food.

In the short time that has passed since the tall crossy man named Risu first joins the class, Aikawa has been able to make a few observations of him (not that Aikawa has been watching _him_ specifically).

First of all, Risu doesn’t seem bothered by verbal ostracism or mean rumours. A clueless rando insults him to his face? That person would risk injury on hands that put out smoke. First the secondary, and then the primary if they persist.

Yeah, Aikawa would say Risu handles other students well enough. He fits right in.

The second thing of note: in a subsequent Practical Magics class, when another weak student is about to be forcibly caned by Ishii-sensei, Risu had one of his metal stakes in hand and was about to stand up. Fortunately, Aikawa was attending class at the same time, so he was able to deal out a less violent threat more quickly.

To be honest, Aikawa usually does not intend to eavesdrop, but he cannot help listening to the conversations around him. (All the better to keep him from hearing dark thoughts in his head.)

He is not particularly close to Risu, even though they sit in almost the same row in class. Aside from asking if Risu has any extra food on hand (which he usually doesn’t), Aikawa never really found a need to talk to him.

Aikawa hears that Risu is perfectly polite around Fukurou, even when he is not around, apparently. Well, it takes a nerd to respect a fellow nerd.

Despite missing classes every few days or so, Risu seems pretty serious about learning magic. Just look at the way his near-hairless brows furrow, his forehead creasing when he comes across difficult concepts or questions…

Sometimes Aikawa sees Risu turn up for class bearing overnight scars. Aikawa’s fingers itch to heal them, or to keep them from reappearing. But, again, it is not his business. Risu was the one who chose to get caught up in dangerous Cross-Eye activities.

Risu is a stranger to him. Just another classmate, after all. He is an adult, and he lives with the decisions he makes.

* * *

The salty taste of the sausages Aikawa had as an early lunch is still on his tongue when he sees Risu line up at the cafeteria behind Fukurou. Those two seem to always have lunch together on days when Risu attends school. Risu usually orders discounted ‘food of the day’ plus an additional egg sandwich; that’s about as much as he could afford from day to day.

Fukurou lives near Grapegum Bakery, a budget pastry shop that is often crowded. The prices there are inexpensive, but the owl claims the pastries are not as good as Tanba’s Restaurant, which is located rather far from where they stay. Every day, Fukurou can be seen carrying a Grapegum Bakery paper bag, although the contents may vary depending on how much they bought earlier in the morning.

“Yo Risu, I got you something,” Fukurou said when they sat at an empty table.

“Huh?” Risu took the seat opposite the owl-masked student.

“Almond donuts. There was a discount today at Grapegum Bakery, so I bought a few extra.”

Fukurou rolled up the hem of their cloth mask to allow them to eat lunch. They separated the paper bag containing donuts from the larger wrapping containing their proper and filling lunch.

Risu fiddled with his cutlery and eyed the paper bag with hesitation.

“I don’t know if I can take these from you. I’m already living off your notes…”

“You’ve been helping _me_ out by sitting with me at lunch. Besides, you need the food more than I do.” Fukurou pushed the donut-filled paper bag in Risu’s direction.

“That is…” Risu trailed off. He began quietly cutting up his ‘food of the day’: some bland chicken rice with wilted vegetables and too little meat.

Fukurou chomped on the savoury pie that passes for half of their meal. Their alert eyes watch as Aikawa plunks himself onto the empty chair next to Risu’s.

“Sounds like ya don’t want the donuts. Can I have’em, then?” he asked Risu.

In response to this, Risu quickly snatched one of the offered donuts and took a large bite out of it.

With the lower part of Fukurou’s mask rolled up, Aikawa can see their unrestrained, amused smile. He met their bespectacled eyes and pointed at the remaining extra donut in the paper bag.

“Do you want the other one?” Fukurou asked Risu.

Risu shrugs. “He can have it,” he said.

The very second Fukurou nods at Aikawa, his hand yoinks the paper bag the way a snake strikes its prey. He soon gets up to leave.

“I’ll see you two in class,” he greeted them, waving his prize in the air.

“If you show up, you will,” Fukurou said, responding with a casual wave of their hand.

While Aikawa walks jovially out of the school cafeteria, he senses that someone is trailing behind him. It was Mizuno, one of his classmates who only almost got beaten up by Ishii-sensei.

Aikawa keeps his mask on, eating the almond donut through the mask’s currently open mouth chamber.

“Hi there, Aikawa – did you have lunch with Fukurou-chan again?” Mizuno asked.

“Just dropped by,” Aikawa responded through a mouth full of soft baked dough and almond chips.

“That Cross-Eye Risu seems to be making head with Fukurou-chan. I’m not surprised; she obviously looks like she has some child-bearing hips.”

Aikawa stopped and turned to face his stocky classmate. Compared to him, Mizuno is small, but Fukurou is at least half a foot shorter than this skirt-chasing chap.

“I’d steer clear of that talk around Fukurou-kun if I were you,” Aikawa warned.

Without waiting for Mizuno’s reaction, Aikawa continued his way down the hall, throwing the emptied paper bag into a nearby garbage can.

* * *

A budget almond donut does not last long after lunch, so Aikawa got a bag of vending machine chips to eat; that makes it easier to stay awake in Magic Theory class. Risu – the nerd that he is – is attentively taking down not just the drawn-up charts but also the teacher’s explanations.

Halfway through popping crisps through the hole in his mask, he observes the classroom. Something feels off. The back row seats near the window are emptier than usual…

“I haven’t seen Tachibana and Maruyama in a while. Don’t they go to school anymore?” he whispered to a wool-clad classmate across the narrow aisle.

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen’em either. Shimamura from Class 3 seems to have disappeared too,” the classmate remarked.

Sometime in the middle of the Magic Theory teacher’s explanations, there were knocks on the door. Tachibana and Maruyama pass the threshold.

“Sorry for being late…” Tachibana said weakly.

The Magic Theory teacher acknowledged the two with a gruff nod, and continues waiting for the rest of the class to finish copying notes on the board.

“Oi, what’s up with those ugly mugs?” Aikawa asked the late students on their way back to their seats.

“Hahaha, it’s nothing. We just tripped and fell,” Maruyama answered.

_At the same time?_ Aikawa wondered, but did not voice it aloud. _What, and you two happen to be wearing matching new bracelets?_

Aikawa has just finished his bag of chips, and has nothing else to occupy his mind. The Magic Theory teacher is talking about rare magics, but he wasn’t listening.

_Who could’ve targeted Tachibana and Maruyama, and why?_

It is getting difficult to try and think over the sound of his steadily-growling stomach.

Ever since Risu came to school, bullying between students has decreased somewhat, for reasons and details Aikawa does not care about. But Tachibana and Maruyama weren’t the kind of guys to get bullied, because they would have fought back.

_So, why didn’t they, in this case?_

Aikawa remembers something else about Tachibana and Maruyama: they are good brawlers, but they’re only slightly above Miura in terms of smoke production levels.

He peeks out the very edge of his mask goggles at Risu, whom he has never seen produce smoke. Ever. It makes sense that a man like that would join the Cross-Eyes.

_… Oi, take that pen out of your mouth. What are you thinking about, with that day-dreamy look on your face?_

Not quite soon enough, the school bell rings and Magic Theory class ends. Aikawa stretches his limbs and goes to stand near Fukurou, who always takes time making sure they did not leave any items behind, from notebooks and pens down to their correction tapes and erasers.

But before he could ask the owl what they think happened to the ‘late’ injured students, he hears a classmate from Practical Magics calling for Risu.

“Ah, there you are, Risu! Sensei wants to see you.”

“Huh? Me?”

_This isn’t good._

“Hey, Fukurou-kun, I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care, okay?”

“Yup. See you tomorrow!” Fukurou answered with as much energy as a ‘boy who feels old’ could expend at the end of school day.

Aikawa need not worry about Fukurou right now. Risu is the one who needs his full attention.

* * *

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM THE SECOND CHAPTER:

  1. Overpriced school fees lead to budget-constrained meals.
  2. Aikawa can have heightened awareness when he pays extra attention.
  3. Risu can be oblivious.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Dead weight’ Mizuno makes his first appearance.  
> I’ve been working on slow builds; I promise that the second fic in this series is more fun (partly due to OOC-ness).


	3. Make Your Choice

**.....**

**AIKAWA**

It has been an accepted truth at South Zagan Sorcery School that Aikawa is an expert at jumping around and finding hidden paths to sneak through. He has managed to cultivate these skills to make quick getaways, especially from Sato, the grumpy cook who oversees the cafeteria. The occasional smokers at the rooftop are not surprised to see Aikawa open the lid of a ventilation chamber and dive into it.

Having been here a while, Aikawa is able to map the entire school on foot. He hasn’t memorised the air vent paths, but he can always work on it… _after_ he is sure Risu is not in trouble.

In any case, he is sure enough about where the teacher’s offices are. He can easily recognise Ishii-sensei’s office, plus the teacher is currently talking through his butt-ugly mask.

It is cold in the air vents, but the air flow made the sounds of Aikawa’s movements in the small space less noticeable. He stays still, out of any possible sight lines anyone can get when looking up past the barred ventilation grate.

“I’ve had a look at your file, Risu. Looks like you can’t produce any smoke at all. Life must’ve been tough for you so far,” Ishii-sensei said after the office door slides shut behind his newest victim.

Risu frowns. He really cannot look intimidating, lacking eyebrows and all.

While Ishii-sensei prattles on about being a useful magic-user, Aikawa pays attention to Risu. If he had to say, this Cross-Eye boy quickly catches on to a so-called person of authority trying to scam him.

“… And that’s why you’ll buy this magical bracelet from me as an additional teaching material. Pay me 50,000 Nik immediately,” Ishii-sensei said. The patterned bracelet looked tiny in his crude hand. “The moment you put this on, you’ll be able to produce smoke.”

Risu never bothered hiding his unimpressed expression from the start. “Oh wow, selling fakes even though you’re a teach?” he remarked.

“What’s that, you little shit?” Ishii-sensei demanded; he left his plush seat and pulled Risu up by the front of his shirt. “Gonna go up against your teacher? I’ll kick you out of school!”

Just as instinctively as when faced with a self-confident bully, Risu pulled a stake out of a forearm loop and stabbed it into Ishii-sensei’s left hand.

Beneath his mask, Aikawa couldn’t help smiling. The young Cross-Eye has another metal stake at the ready in his left hand.

“Threats don’t work on me,” Risu declared.

_He has faced enough on a regular basis,_ Aikawa completed the thought.

Groaning in pain, Ishii-sensei pulled the metal stake out of his left hand and let it fall to the floor.

“You bastard… I won’t forgive you. I’ll erase you with my magic,” the teacher spoke, his voice filled with menace.

It is time for Aikawa to make a dramatic entrance.

* * *

**RISU**

_‘Erase’? This guy uses erasal magic? This is bad…_

His right hand grips another metal stake. In terms of physical combat, he would have no problems against this brute – but magic is something he can never beat anyone at.

_In a small room like this, I’ll be surrounded by smoke in no time!_

The barred ventilation grate above the teacher’s desk crashed open. Risu is greeted with the sight of a familiar, muscular, strong-legged figure hanging upside-down from tough metal-connected cables.

“I heard _aaaalll_ of that, all of it,” Aikawa announced.

Still clutching at his wounded left hand, Ishii-sensei looked over his shoulder at the intruder. “Aikawa! You bastard!!”

Aikawa’s scowling eyes are barely visible through the glass-covered eyeholes of his mask.

“So it was _you_ after all who’s been hurting people and making them disappear.”

The student in dark mask and hoodie lets go of the cables he was dangling from, and lands firmly on his feet.

“It’s time to stop the dirty business with pupils, sensei!” Aikawa urged. It sounds like he is doing everything he can, giving the teacher one last chance to peacefully repent.

“Aikawa!” Ishii-sensei points at Aikawa as he shouts. “You’ve always been an eyesore! You will vanish together with Risu!!”

As if to make the opportunistic teacher’s job easier, Aikawa moved to stand close to Risu… no, _between_ Risu and Ishii-sensei.

“Can’t say that reaction is a surprise, given your personality.” There was a tone of finality in Aikawa’s voice.

“The hell are you doing?!” Risu shouted at this brave (and possibly foolhardy) hero of the South Zagan classrooms.

Aikawa pulls out his knife. “This teacher needs to be taught some manners.”

Risu gasps. He has the feeling his rescuer is showing his true form: what lurks beneath his general goofy manner.

Ishii-sensei begins gathering smoke in his uninjured right hand, pointed in the defiant students’ direction.

“So long, Aikawa!! Risu!!”

Aikawa moves faster than the teacher can launch his smoke. With his knife alone, he manages to chop Ishii-sensei’s finger and arm to pieces.

_Who… who_ is _this guy?_

* * *

**AIKAWA**

He has really done it now, hasn’t he?

Obviously, this terrible teacher has had it coming for a long time. But Aikawa has never done something _this_ dangerous under his silly student persona before.

Risu’s momentary adrenaline seems to have moved on, now that the threat has been neutralised. It’s just like a Cross-Eye to not be startled or upset by a bloodied, incapacitated sorcerer’s body.

Ishii-sensei foamed at the mouth; it seems he has passed out from the pain and gore that have been inflicted on him.

“This asshole…” Aikawa crouches next to the body. Risu stands on the other side.

“He said he can use erasal magic, but he can’t even put out enough smoke to do anything much. But what are we gonna do about him? When he wakes up, we’re getting expelled…”

“I think I have an idea,” Risu said. He retrieves his bloodied metal stake, wiping it on the unconscious teacher’s thin cotton undershirt before setting it aside.

Aikawa pushes down on his heels, rising to full height. Risu uses the wall phone in the teacher’s office to dial a number from memory.

“It’s Risu. I’ve got a body here at school.” He sounds so business-like on the phone. He glances around the room and gives Ishii-sensei’s body a calculating look. “Yeah, it’s alright, we can carry it downstairs. Use the back gate.”

‘We,’ Risu had said. That word stirred something in Aikawa, probably because he is officially Risu’s accomplice now.

Risu detached cloth from a nearby cupboard and used it to securely cover the cut-up teacher’s upper half. A headache creeps from the base of Aikawa’s skull, watching his Cross-Eye classmate clean up the crime scene the best he can.

In hopes of warding off the headache, Aikawa decides to focus on Risu’s physique and not the scene that is more familiar to his other self.

Risu handled the cloth-wrapped half of the body whereas Aikawa carried the legs; having two persons made it easier to haul down. There were no students nearby to watch Ishii-sensei getting deposited into the back of a Cross-Eye truck.

“It’s a bit early in the day to collect sorcerer heads, isn’t it?” the truck driver, a few years Risu’s senior, asked.

“There were special circumstances,” Risu laughed it off. He shut the truck’s storage doors and waved at the departing driver. “Well, we’ll leave the rest to you.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

Before the headache could tighten its grip on Aikawa’s skull, he asks Risu: “Where’s that truck headed?”

“You don’t need to know.” Risu’s tone is not harsh – just a little careful. Perhaps protective.

“Ah well, you really helped us out there. This asshole kept bothering everybody, but because he’s the principal’s relative, no one could stop him.”

Risu nods absently, checking that the metal spikes in his forearm loops are not falling out. Aikawa gives him space, but does not fall far behind as they walk together through the school’s dingy hallways.

“If you hadn’t opposed him all the time, maybe I couldn’t have done anything about him either. Gotta thank you for that,” Aikawa added.

Something about his words made Risu glance over his shoulder at Aikawa. The tall Cross-Eye shook his head, probably also shaking off the notion that what he did was for ‘justice’ or some higher notion that is largely absent in this society.

“Nah, I just have no patience with people,” Risu replied.

At this juncture, after what they have been through together, Aikawa decides he might as well make a proper introduction.

“I’m Aikawa. Nice to meet you.”

“My name is… Risu.”

The warmth in Risu’s smile and words chased away any residue of Aikawa’s headache that day.

_My peace is preserved, and… and I think I’ve just made a friend._

* * *

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM THE THIRD CHAPTER:

  1. Risu can recognise fake smoke-production gimmicks and trinkets from a glance.
  2. Against persons of authority, Aikawa uses violence only as a last resort.
  3. Aikawa risks disrupting the peace in his life to help Risu.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay to name chapters after Dead By Daylight killer perks, right?  
> Also, in case it hasn't been made clear enough: Risu cute.


	4. Horizon Tilt

**.....**

**AIKAWA**

Ever since he starts spending more time with Risu outside of school, he begins to see what the low-ranking Cross-Eye’s daily life is like.

By day, derision and disdain on the streets. Harassment that could cost someone their hands. Intentional distance, occasional pity. Through it all, Risu holds his head high.

By night, it is one of two: an uneventful evening spent maintaining the upkeep of one’s living place; or a nocturnal jaunt around the city to collect magic-user heads.

At least this time Aikawa makes sure Risu does not have to go through it all alone.

_This is what it means to be friends, isn’t it?_ Aikawa wonders as he bodily pulls Risu out of the way of a sorcerer’s smoke.

They fall into an easy rhythm: survive, fight, overcome, call-in. This way, when they go home and go to school again, Risu appears more like a fellow student than a troublemaking thug. Well, this is more for their benefit when dealing with teachers.

Civilians like Fukurou, Miura, Mizuno and others still treat Aikawa and Risu as fellow classmates. Maybe they cannot feel what Aikawa feels: a gulf growing between himself and them. Or perhaps the gap has always existed, and Aikawa is only now becoming aware of it.

But he and Risu are growing closer; that, he cannot deny. He wonders if Risu has always been conscious of that distance between himself and the people at school. The fact that Risu is a visitor from a darker side of the world, and that his presence in school is only necessitated by his desire to uncover his magic.

_And what am_ I _doing with this guy, under my school-going personality?_

Perhaps there are some truths that do not change. One of them was brought to light when he is forced to kill in order to protect.

Regardless of which face he is wearing, _this_ is the world he lives in. A world fraught with danger, conflict, and death. But he is not alone. He has a friend with whom he shares this experience.

* * *

**RISU**

The Cross-Eyes’ attempt to take over the Thammuz nightclub, to say the least, crashed and burned. There are no fatalities on their end, but when Risu was securing an exit for his lieutenant Tanabe, a ball of smoke exploded on the right side of Risu’s torso.

Aikawa half-carried Risu out of the blasted place, but not before knifing the hand and neck of the magic-user who aimed the explosive smoke at Risu.

Risu faintly caught word that Organisation members should lie low for at least a week before regrouping. The remaining lucid part of his mind is thinking about taking measures to not get tailed, but he is now moving on account of Aikawa.

And Aikawa knew exactly what to do.

“There’s a 24-hour pharmacy around the corner. Don’t go anywhere,” Aikawa said.

“Aagh,” is the minimal response Risu could provide.

As the shock and chaos subside, Risu takes stock of himself and the surroundings. Aikawa has set him gently down on a bench by a lake, a relatively well-lit area. Two of his metal stakes are missing, but he can usually replace them. The underside of his right upper arm feels stiff, and his right ear canal is numb. The bruises and scratches on his left limbs are negligible compared to the biting pain left by the explosive smoke.

“Aikawa,” he calls out when his friend arrives with medical supplies and a large bottle of mineral water. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

He can hear a scoff from behind the black gas mask. “How about we see to _you_ first?”

Risu lifts his right arm, resting the back of his wrist on his unevenly-spiked blond hair. This close to Aikawa – meticulously cleaning the major wound, applying burn cream on the impacted upper arm, gently washing even minor scratches – Risu can feel the care in Aikawa’s actions.

Risu wanted to return that simple love. “Did any of them get you?” he asked, trying to find a comfortable position to rest his right arm.

“They couldn’t land a single scratch.” It wasn’t a boast, but a mere statement of fact.

Risu smiled. _Aikawa is incredible._

The two of them took turns drinking what remained of the large mineral water bottle. Risu barely paid attention when Aikawa made a remark about being the first customers of Grapegum Bakery that morning.

“Aikawa,” something in Risu compelled him to say. “You’re not even in the Cross-Eyes organisation. What do you have to gain by helping me?”

The black mask with goggles snapped to face Risu.

“What – gain? A friend does not think about gaining anything from his friend! That is so wrong…”

Aikawa faced away as his words trail off. It’s probably better that way, because right now Risu feels like an idiot for asking that question.

He smiles anyway. He is grateful to have this friend.

“Thanks, Aikawa.”

Together, they take a less-travelled path toward Tachikawa Apartments. They are not followed.

“The next time I get paid, I’m buying a spare futon for you to sleep on,” Risu said.

“But I sleep just fine on the floor.”

“The reason I let you sleep on the floor was because you said you don’t want to end up rolling off of my bed and falling on top of me.” Although Risu would be perfectly fine with that happening.

“Hmph, fine. What a gracious host you are.” The sarcasm is not strong in Aikawa’s voice. Risu does not hide the laughter from his eyes.

* * *

**AIKAWA**

One afternoon after the end-of-school bell rings, Aikawa had intended to wait at the school building entrance for Risu, but a commotion seems to have broken out in the central hall, in front of the winged demon statue.

“Fight! FIGHT!” cheers rang out from students leaning over the balcony railings.

“Be careful, Fukurou-san!” Miura called out.

The owl in question has taken off the top part of their ancient-styled robes. The short sleeves of their Haru T-shirt do not get in the way of their sharp metal-plated elbow pads. Similarly dangerous knee pads are worn over their robe trousers.

“Show us your titties, little hooter!” one of the two perverts who picked a fight with Fukurou taunted.

“You wanna strip me? I’ll strip _you_ instead – into minced meat!” the owl-masked student screeched.

It wasn’t hard for Aikawa to find and approach Risu in the crowd.

“Should we help Fukurou-kun?” Risu asked him, somehow able to identify his presence by proximity of body heat.

“There’s just two opponents. And look – they’re only attacking Fukurou-kun one at a time,” Aikawa pointed out.

Risu hummed in agreement. The first pervert is taller with long limbs, reaching for the front of Fukurou’s shirt. The owl deflected the hand with an elbow, and used the momentum to swing the heel of their boot against the man’s sternum. The impact launched him several feet back.

He doesn’t look like he’s getting back up soon enough.

“We see Fukurou seated so often that I forget their legs are long – at least, for their height,” Risu exclaimed.

“Lots of guys forget that legs are good weapons, sometimes better than fists,” Aikawa added.

Risu smiled. Aikawa could feel his friend leaning just a little more heavily against him.

_Yeah, I get it: those owl’s legs remind you of mine, which (by the way) are larger._

Aware of his height, the shorter pervert is more cautious when going up against Fukurou. His arms are spread wide, fingers making grabbing motions.

_Oh, does he think he can take Fukurou down with his weight?_

Fukurou must have read the signals, too, because when this second opponent charges toward them at a sprint, they take a light step to the side. The pervert’s shoes drag against the floor when he brakes and readjusts to Fukurou’s new position.

Too slow. With a quick twirl, Fukurou landed a reverse elbow swing on his nose. His figure topples limply to the ground.

Cheers and boos grow louder in equal volumes. “You call this a fight?” someone shouted from a higher-floor balcony. Fukurou shrugged with their arms up and palms open.

“What in the Devils’ name is going on here?”

Aikawa froze. That was the Principal’s voice. Beside him, Risu leans forward a little more, as if to hide Aikawa from view.

Fukurou lowered their arms and moved to put on the top of their ancient robes again. “These guys wanted to strip me naked in a public area. That’s harassment,” they answered.

“I can vouch for Fukurou-san, Mr Principal,” Miura piped up.

“Harassment, hmm?” the Principal repeated. “That kind of thing shouldn’t happen around here. Regardless, you’ve been smart not to use your magic to fight, or else I would’ve been forced to put a bad mark on your records.”

Fukurou nodded neutrally. With the Principal present, the crowds of students begin to disperse.

“Thanks for looking after my stuff, Miura-kun.”

“It’s no problem. Just - why is your backpack so heavy? Do you carry bricks to school every day?”

“Yeah – bricks of knowledge and music.”

“Hahaha…”

Aikawa felt more than heard Risu saying “Let’s get out of here.”

They are in no hurry to go home to Risu’s place; the Cross-Eye lieutenants have yet to call him about their next regroup meeting. So, on the way, Aikawa stops to eat at a fast food restaurant. While he himself orders a large beefy set, Risu just orders vanilla ice cream and fries to snack on.

“You’ve seen Fukurou fight before, haven’t you?” Risu asked.

“Yeah, and fought alongside them when they got outnumbered. It happens,” Aikawa replied through a half-mouthful of meat and bread.

Risu smiled at him. After all, on the Cross-Eye’s first day at school, he has seen Aikawa protect both Miura and Fukurou, although at different levels.

“I’m… glad. It’s good that Fukurou can hold their own, and that these low-rank bullies are the worst kinds of opponents they would normally have to face,” Risu exclaimed.

“Well, that puts us on the same page,” Aikawa responded, pausing to take a sip of soft drink.

Indeed, after frequent provocations for being a Cross-Eye, and after the fiasco at Thammuz nightclub, it is clear that Risu does not want to involve ordinary people like Fukurou and Miura in his usual activities.

But it’s always okay for Aikawa, because he can take the violence.

“Hey Risu, you’ve got ice cream on your nose.”

“Ehh?”

“Can I lick it off?”

“Not in public!” Risu hissed.

“Fine…” Aikawa took a stick of fried potato and used it to scrape the tiny dollop of ice cream off Risu’s nose. He tried to focus on the taste of the strange mix of food; Risu’s intense stare is distracting him.

“I’m starting to see why you like eating ice cream and fries together,” Aikawa remarked.

“Right??”

There is an ever-expanding gulf between them and the students at South Zagan Sorcery School. But that’s okay, because they are not alone. They have one another.

* * *

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM THE FOURTH CHAPTER:

  1. Aikawa and Risu are becoming closer as friends.
  2. The principal of South Zagan Sorcery School regards Fukurou as just another male student.
  3. Vanilla ice cream and french fries go deliciously together.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not a Flootist fic unless the chapter denominator increases, AKA Nad ends up writing too many words again.  
> The next (hopefully final) chapter includes soft moments and an omake.


	5. Cross-Eyes, Cross Hearts

**.....**

**AIKAWA**

What Aikawa had in mind on a weekend evening: scouting for street food alongside Risu (who just finished meeting up with his lieutenant and received details of the next job).

What turned out happening instead: the two of them end up stumbling into what is now a ‘rich people neighbourhood’, and a handful of self-styled elite sorcerers strut right up to Risu (and Aikawa by association).

“Well, look what we have here!”

“Did you pieces of trash get lost?”

“These guys are broke _and_ dumb!”

There are six sorcerers in total. Three are in scarecrow masks, two are wearing crescent masks, and the last one in a spider mask is hanging back. The five rowdy ones are circling Risu and Aikawa, throwing more words for now, as if they would hurt the two.

“What’s the matter? You don’t know how to talk to your betters?”

“Go heave your filthy asses back to Kesbeel Park, you lowlife wannabe sorcerers!”

Risu is standing his ground, refusing to even appear frightened of commonplace bullies. “I’d be on my way if you weren’t purposely blocking me,” he said, completely unflappable.

“Oh, you think you’re tough, huh?”

“Let’s teach these dumbasses a lesson they’ll never forget!”

The sorcerers draw their cudgels and knives, aiming the non-magic weapons more toward Risu than Aikawa.

Aikawa’s own hands moved out of his hoodie pockets and toward his knife handles. “Geez, Risu, couldn’t we have gone at least a full week without you getting attacked?”

Risu seems to be simmering with untapped energy, ready to reach for his stakes at any time. A smirk is forming on his face.

“Say, Aikawa, do you know why Cross-Eyes don’t wear masks? Why we flaunt these signs on our faces?”

_What in all of Hell is this guy thinking?_

“The truth is, we actively invite danger. It’s a challenge to those who think they can take us down.”

The metal stakes glint in the light of the street lamps. Risu parried and fended off two, and later one more sorcerer. Aikawa is just trying not to be lethal while guarding his best friend’s back.

The crescent-masked sorcerers pick themselves up and grip their weapons more tightly.

“It shows us the kind of people they are, so _we_ – even without good magic – can take _them_ down,” Risu finishes, and charges once more into the fray.

_What kind of fucked-up lore is that?_ Aikawa did not voice out that thought.

It took Aikawa about an instant to disarm the sorcerers of their normal weapons. The five outwardly hostile ones are capable of offensive and defensive magics, and a punk-dressed one among them is even able to transform one of Risu’s stakes into oil.

The spider-masked sorcerer stays at the fringes of the battle. From time to time, he sends smoke onto Risu or Aikawa’s weapons or clothes, but nothing has changed as far as they notice.

Whenever they faced violent encounters like they do tonight, Aikawa always followed Risu’s lead. But when the punk sorcerer aimed to cast transformation magic on Risu, Aikawa chopped the sorcerer’s hands and throat without hesitation.

Risu may be willing to bear with scratches from controlled plants or bruises from smoke-shields while showing these sorcerers what a Cross-Eye can do. Aikawa, on the other hand, would rather make it all stop; the sooner, the better.

“Where is that last one?” Aikawa asked.

Risu’s eyes spotted the spider-masked sorcerer skulking away. Something about the way he moved made Risu think it would be dangerous to leave him alive, and Aikawa agreed with that thought.

Risu gave direct chase, and Aikawa cut the sorcerer off in an alley.

“Oi, where did you think you’re going?” Risu threatened the spider-masked sorcerer. He is holding a stake to the sorcerer’s throat while Aikawa anchors the stranger’s limbs to the pavement.

“You two go to South Zagan Sorcery School,” the sorcerer stated.

“Is that your parlour trick? You guess things about people you don’t know?” Aikawa demanded.

“My magic is not lethal. With my smoke, I am able to know where things or people have been.” The sorcerer turns to stare at Aikawa. “Your clothes and knives have been to some interesting places.”

Aikawa’s jaw tightened beneath his mask. The dark presence within him almost growls, urging him to crack the sorcerer’s skull and pull the devil tumour from his brain.

“That’s how you use your magic? So now you know where I live, where my superiors meet?” Risu demanded of the spider-masked sorcerer.

His blue slit-shaped eyes see danger. His hands are ready to kill.

_Risu…_

Aikawa’s best friend also desires peace, although in his own terms.

“W-wait, wait, wait! I swear I’m not a strong magic-user. I can be useful to you Cross-Eyes, can’t I?” the sorcerer asked.

“Hard to believe that, considering whom you’ve been hanging out with.” Risu’s decision is final.

Metal stakes dig into neck and heart. Risu and Aikawa avoided the ensuing outpour of blood in time.

When life has completely left the spider-masked sorcerer, Risu picks up the body and carries it back to the somewhat public area where he and Aikawa fought the other sorcerers.

_What that sorcerer said… would Risu wonder about it? About how these clothes and weapons have gone to interesting places? They are not wholly mine, after all…_

“My, this is a worrying sight,” Risu quipped.

Five beaten and sliced bodies on the ground, a sixth joining them, will obviously raise concerns in eyewitnesses who pass by.

“Aikawa, can you look after them? I’m going to a payphone to call a driver,” Risu told him.

The sorcerer’s words barely registered in Risu’s mind, apparently. He is wholly concerned with his duties as a Cross-Eye underling.

“You can count on me,” Aikawa responded with automatic cheer, masking his throbbing headache.

Maybe he should be concerned about how he has become accustomed to having to end lives. But then, if they let any of these rude elites live, that means Risu is more likely to be attacked, and on a larger and more organised scale.

For a lack of better alternatives, this is currently the best way.

* * *

The two eventually manage to buy dinner from a sympathetic kebab stall operator. After making sure that they are not followed, they return to Risu’s residence.

Risu locks the door to his apartment. Aikawa is already taking off his mask, cap, sweater, and top. The bruises from blunt impact seem superficial on his tanned skin, especially compared to the fresh collection of scars and discolouration on Risu’s pale figure.

“Sheesh, look at the size of that gash. This was from the plant sorcerer?” Aikawa asked, pointing at the open cut on the left side of Risu’s face, running from beside his eye down to his jaw.

“I guess,” Risu replied, unbuttoning his jumpsuit.

Aikawa can scarcely pay attention to what his Cross-Eye friend is saying about rose thorns and cactus needles. Risu let his outer garment lie crumpled on the floor. Underneath, he has a thin white cotton shirt and a pair of boxers.

“Maybe I should go sleeveless one of these days,” Risu complained, scowling at the ruined sleeves of the shirt he just took off. Other injuries – both old and new – are visible on his torso.

_How could he take all this so lightly?_

At least Risu knows he is too wounded to take a proper shower for now. He prepares a bucket of water and a small, clean towel while Aikawa takes out a case full of medical supplies from the cabinet under the bathroom sink.

Disinfect, close up, clean. The routine goes on.

Once Aikawa finishes tending to Risu, he goes to his closet and pulls mismatched yet comfortable fresh night-garments from a pile. With few wounds of his own to treat, Aikawa puts his top back on.

The two of them sit on the floor and unwrap their respective kebabs that they left on the coffee table. Aikawa notes that Risu has not said a word since Aikawa had mended him for – well, it’s pointless for Aikawa to count all the times.

Perhaps Risu sensed the uncomfortable silence. Or perhaps he notices that Aikawa rarely speaks unless spoken to, or unless he is interested in something. Halfway through his large-portioned kebab, Risu puts it down and clears his throat.

“Aikawa,” Risu speaks softly, his tone solemn and sincere, “I really appreciate you doing this for me. I – sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve it.”

_If he thinks he’s gonna say ‘I don’t deserve you’, I’m gonna kick him in his plump ass._

And Aikawa is glad Risu did not say those words.

“Risu, man…” Aikawa began. “I know that you believe in the Cross-Eye gang’s ways or whatever.”

He wipes his hand on a napkin and then softly claps on Risu’s better shoulder.

“But I’d rest easier if you don’t take your role as ‘tempting punching bag’ so seriously. You could end up killed.”

_And I don’t want that to happen._

Risu relaxes his posture while Aikawa returns to his second kebab. It still worries Aikawa how empty Risu’s eyes are, how fatalistic he sounds when he says his next words.

“I can’t use magic, can’t even produce smoke… which basically means I’m no good as a sorcerer. I’ve been useless for basically all of my life. If I die for our boss, it wouldn’t have been a meaningless sacrifice.”

Aikawa drops his food and wipes his hands again. He quickly scoots around the coffee table and tackles Risu from behind while avoiding pressure on his injured parts. Unprepared and confused, Risu is barely able to wriggle free when Aikawa clamps down his forearms and hips.

“Aikawa?!”

“Sorry bud, but I’ve gotta hold you until you withdraw your dumbass fucking statements about yourself.”

“What?”

Risu tries to lift a leg, but Aikawa’s free hand pushes Risu forehead-first to the floor.

“You heard me. I’m not gonna let go until you promise to value your life more.”

“Stop, stop!” Risu cried. “Geez, you’re acting like we’re kids at a playground.”

“Want me to tickle you instead?” Aikawa threatened.

“What? NO!”

“Then say it!” Aikawa adjusts his position so that he has Risu in an adjustable chokehold. “Say that your life has value and is worth living, Risu!”

“What the fu–aaaaagh!”

Aikawa tightens his arm’s hold over Risu’s neck. “Say it!”

Risu snarled and thrashed, but he cannot get out from under the combination of Aikawa’s weight and grip. He could scream, but that would require explaining to his neighbours why he is in this position in the first place.

So, if only to humour his strange friend holding him tightly, he slows down his shallow breaths. “My life –” he said through clenched teeth, “– has value, and it is worth living.”

“Say it again.”

Risu repeats the words – Aikawa’s words. He complies when Aikawa tells him to say them again. Gradually, as Risu begins to sound more sincere, Aikawa loosens the restraining hold. After probably the sixth time Risu says “My life has value and it is worth living,” Aikawa eases off of Risu and helps him sit up.

He was fully prepared for Risu to punch him. But while Risu’s fists are indeed clenched, his forearms cross over his ribs, his knees drawn up. He might be cold and alone in the landscape of his mind, still grappling with the possibility that someone sees value in him.

So Aikawa wraps his arms around Risu’s chest from behind, this time as a gentle hug. Several slow breaths later, Risu leans into the hug and rests the right side of his face on Aikawa’s shoulder. His eyes were moist, but his expression has softened.

“Now, will you stop acting so reckless as a Cross-Eyes member? Or at least put on a mask in public so I don’t have to worry about you getting attacked every other day,” Aikawa demanded, his voice low and gentle.

Risu shifts his weight away from Aikawa and rests his forearms on the coffee table. It’s not going to take one simple night of repeated words to make this man believe that his life has purpose, but Aikawa can only hope. It is up to Risu to make his life count. Be useful, but also remember to _live_.

“I promise I’ll be more careful when I’m out on my jobs – that is, I won’t throw myself into danger the first chance I get. I won’t hide my eyes, but… I can avoid unknown areas, and stick to safe spaces like school. Is that good enough for you?” Risu asked.

Aikawa reached for his partly-eaten kebab across the coffee table. “That’s a start,” he said, making short work of the dinner he had intended to eat a while ago.

“Well, if you’re so concerned about my well-being…”

Risu hangs his right arm over the base of Aikawa’s neck, the way Risu has seen him do to students he protected.

“What if we become Partners? We’re already spending so much time together.”

A clenching headache competes with the gesture of warmth – _his_ gesture – replicated onto him by Risu. He can just feel that face grinning from within him, mocking him for getting close to someone. After all the dangers they have faced together, is it alright for him to expose Risu to his other selves?

Partnership implies equal standing. Can he even say he and Risu are equal? Is it fair for him to become Risu’s partner and yet hide things from him?

_Risu can handle the danger, right? I’m strong enough to protect him, right?_

Aikawa swallows the last of his meal, cleans his hands, and throws away the waste paper. As he puts on his sweater, cap, and mask, he dares not look Risu in the eye for fear he could see what lurks within.

**_Can you lie to him the way you’ve lied to yourself?_ **

“My headache is acting up. I have to go,” Aikawa said.

* * *

OMAKE: “Scents Maker”

“Fukurou-kun,” Aikawa asked after school one day, “why do you always smell so nice?”

The owl tilted their head. “Are you talking about me, or the pastries?”

“The pastries are gone, so yeah, Aikawa is talking about you,” Risu pointed out.

“I shower every night.”

“Every… night?”

Fukurou nods at Risu. “Yeah. If I go an entire week without showering, I’ll end up smelling bad.”

Aikawa crossed his arms. “I shower every day,” he boasted.

Risu blinked at him.

“… Maybe,” Aikawa added. “But I can’t stay smelling nice like Fukurou-kun. Maybe my soap scent wears off too quickly.”

Fukurou has a spring in their next step; the vertical elevation does nothing to put them on par with Aikawa and Risu’s eye level.

“If the soap is the problem, then I know where you can get some with long-lasting pleasant scents,” the owl proffered.

The two follow Fukurou to a nearby marketplace, to an open-air large-space stall with the sign Lotus Trail. ‘Buy Two, Free One’ promotion posters cover the base of the stalls.

“I find that when I get stalked, no male sorcerer will ever follow me into this place. Lotus Trail is pretty infamous for sweet-scented bathing goods, and I’ve heard too much talk at school about guys not wanting to ‘tarnish their manhood’ by using these soaps,” Fukurou explained.

“That’s kind of a shitty logic, isn’t it? They say that smelling perfumed makes you less manly?” Risu wondered.

Fukurou let out a short laugh. “That’s what happens when they’ve been raised on a gross, insecure kind of masculinity. It’s funny how a bottle of scented shower gel can make them question their image.”

“Then we shall prove _our_ manliness by daring to use these effeminate items!” Aikawa declared.

Fukurou and a flower-masked assistant in an apron aid Risu and Aikawa in selecting shower gel scents. The male students browse not only the “For Men” scents, but also the floral or fruity ones.

After a while of sniff-testing, Aikawa favours a teak-mahogany scent, whereas Risu picks up a starflower-amber gel.

“Are you only buying one each? We have discount promotions if you buy more,” the assistant suggested.

Risu eyed his second-best shower gel option with uncertainty. “These are pretty expensive…”

“It should be okay for you to get more than one, just to switch things up. Besides, you don’t need so much shower gel every time you bathe. One of these bottles has been able to last me five months,” Fukurou said.

Aikawa and Risu look at the size of Fukurou’s figure, and then their own.

“If we were going to shower every day or night, I think we’ll blow through a single bottle in the matter of three months,” Aikawa said.

Risu looked wistfully at the shower gel bottles. They do not cost what he deems to be ‘a fortune’, but these are still quite steep prices to pay for one to smell pleasant after a wash.

Aikawa wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Between us, we’ll buy two; you can then take the free one. I don’t need to use nice-smelling shower gel _every_ day.”

“What, is it because you _don’t_ actually shower every day?” Risu teased him.

Aikawa tightened the hold of his arm on Risu slightly. “Hey, watch it. I’ll shower in your crummy bathroom if I have to, and then I’ll steal your soaps. Have fun paying for the utilities!”

“Let’s just hurry up with these…”

As devoted as Fukurou is to the Devils, they hoped none of the powerful creatures are around at the moment. The owl doesn’t want to be caught mentally picturing Aikawa or Risu showering, or bathing in a public hot springs area, or – _‘Stop right there, bird-brain!’_

* * *

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM THE FIFTH CHAPTER:

  1. Risu has genuine faith in the Cross-Eyes gang, and in Aikawa.
  2. Aikawa’s grip tends to be very strong.
  3. When you don’t believe in yourself, it helps to have other people believe in you.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like most of what I write is silly shit. Still, writing those moments gives me life, and I’m glad I could share them with y’all.  
> Be warned that the next fic is going to be trope-y and sappy as all hell. Those guys are gonna kiss, and I’ll write an entire plot behind it.


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